I like trees. Those in Sri Lanka in particular. The small, tossed by the wind bravely endure every blast. Sometimes they lose a pawn, but strong roots hold them firmly in the ground. The big and effuse continuously dominate over people and the rest of the world.

In Anuradhapura, sacred Bodhi tree attracts pilgrims from the remotest corners of the country. Clad in white, they burn incense and lay flowers. Under a tree from which the branch grew, the Buddha attained enlightenment. It is more than two thousand six hundred years old but it definitely does not look its age.